Bloody Hell
by jagter se maan
Summary: Complete. The summer before Draco’s first year of schooling, his father presents him with a gift: A longstanding tradition between the father and son of the Malfoy family, one which Lucius is only too happy to continue. As for Draco...


**Bloody Hell**

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'This way, Draco.'

The pale boy followed, silent as his eyes scanned their surroundings. He was being led to the Malfoy Dungeons, a place he had never before been allowed. The junior Malfoy reflected on what he already knew about the Dungeons, from the occasional sneak peak he'd managed to grab: they had a faint scent of blood and...something else, and once he had heard screaming.

But of course, he had been young then, and it could have been a side-effect of his occasional overactive imagination... He was jerked back to the present when he ungracefully ran into his father, who turned with a raised eyebrow to peer almost disdainfully at him. He seemed faintly amused. 'Do be certain to pay attention to your surroundings, Draco.'

'Yes, father,' he responded immediately, reflexively. As they continued down the cold stone steps - (How far are the Dungeons below ground, anyway?) - he made sure to keep his mind and focus on where he was going and what he was doing. Lucius wouldn't be pleased if his son repeated an unfavorable action, after all.

They reached ten-foot tall doors, stone just as the stairs, in a matter of minutes. Funny, Draco thought, how five-hundred forty steps seemed to take so many hours to pass when he was uncertain. Lucius stopped just short of the doors, faced Draco, and stood silent as he studied the blonde youth. Draco refrained from fidgeting. A Malfoy didn't fidget.

'You have been curious of what remains in here for some time. I feel you should know before your schooling starts; ignorance is not becoming.' Draco nodded, and his father continued. 'I will be frank: the contents of the Dungeons will likely alarm you, Malfoy or no. However, you will overcome that fear lest it overcome you. A Malfoy does not submit to a lower being...unless he is not a Malfoy.'

Draco caught the underlying meaning in the words, as he was meant to, and despite the slight shiver that shot down his spine, he nodded impassively and responded as such.

'Of course, father. The Malfoy family is superior. We are superior.'

Lucius smiled - it was just what he'd wanted to hear, and Draco knew that. Sometimes the head of his family was such a fool. But of course he'd never say that aloud again.

His father resumed. 'I warn you, Draco: show hesitance and, even bound, this creature will kill you. I do not wish to intervene, and if I must, I will be most displeased. You will be merciless or nothing. Is that understood?'

'Yes, father,' he said, but Lucius didn't bother with a reply; and as the doors smoothly inched open, Draco clenched his wand in his pocket. With a nod from his father, he took it out and walked forward. Lucius led him to the right, below the winding staircase to where the Dungeons were.

He could hear the growling before he'd entered the first room, but following his father's advice, he acted as if it didn't bother him. Lucius stood to the side, by the doorway, and with a nod indicated that Draco should walk on. He did, and when the light from the torches reached the back wall (the dungeons were in a square formation, to remain under the stairs), his blood ran cold.

He was tied – no, chained - to the wall, suspended roughly a foot above the ground. Not that inches wouldn't have worked, seeing as he wasn't extremely tall; perhaps five feet, with some lucky. Coal black hair, spiked, and the front bangs may have been white originally, but they were mostly red with blood now. His skin was-...well, Draco wasn't sure what it usually looked like, because at that moment it was covered in innumerable lacerations, and pale (as pale as his own, nearly). His clothes were in one piece, for the most part; and he was obviously allowed to bathe, but doubtful much else. His entire body was compact, built obviously one of a person who exercised - and exhaustively. But he was thin, whether from said exercise or being kept in a dungeon, it wasn't certain.

As Draco took another step forward, he had to steel himself from taking an even larger step back as the boy's head snapped up and he glared maliciously. --Intense eyes. Hateful eyes. Red eyes. He scowled and turned to his father.

'Yes, Draco?' he inquired, eyebrow raised.

'What is this? I thought you said I should be careful. There doesn't seem to be much worth to a boy chained and beaten. The least you could have done was bring me that Potter boy, father. We're all better off without him, of course.

Lucius had to be pleased, no doubt, with Draco's show of apathy, and tact. He almost smiled. 'A boy... I thought you might say that, Draco. Go ahead, take a closer look. He won't bite if you don't have your hand near his mouth.'

Warily, but still with a feigned air of arrogance, Draco walked closer still. The creature, as his father had labeled him, was sending a glare more fierce that any he'd seen - or given, he noted with slight envy - and in another world it could have been enough to kill him on the spot. Certainly in the here and now it gave him pause to getting too close...

'Kuso shite shin-e, bakayarou,' the raven-haired boy hissed venomously. Draco frowned; it wasn't anything he understood, but his father might. He glanced over his shoulder for an explanation, or a translation.

'Speak so that we may understand you, if you would be so kind.'

Draco could infer the full meaning of that, and when he looked back at the seething youth, it seemed, so could he. Staring Draco straight in the eye, he ground out something that sounded like 'Fuck you' and, naturally, it angered the blonde.

'And, pray tell, what have I done to upset you?' he snapped out, voice colored with indignan offense. He stepped forward and narrowed his eyes. A foreigner – a creature, not even a human - dare insult him? No one insulted a Malfoy without regretting it. '_Nothing_,' he answered himself. 'Remind yourself of your position and show some respect.' The boy bared his teeth. Draco ground his.

A movement behind him and Draco turned; his father was starting toward the exit. He watched as Lucius turned to him and smiled...evilly. Or what resembled 'evilly'. His eyes briefly swept over their prisoner before settling on his son.

'Come, Draco. I believe dinner will be ready soon, and certainly you would want to clean up before then. Spending time down here always demands such, doesn't it.' It wasn't a question.

With a quick glance at the boy where their eyes locked - Draco nearly shivered at the pure hate he saw - he followed leisurely behind the senior Malfoy, easily twirling his wand between his fingers. He put it away when they'd passed the doors.

Over ten minutes more of those dreadful stairs, silent again, and nearing the top Lucius spoke. He didn't at all look at his son when he addressed him, luckily missing how his words impacted Draco.

'You did well for your first encounter with a demon. I am pleased. I will be instructing you on the common methods of entertainment that the Malfoy Dungeons provide, until I feel you are well-off enough on your own.'

Draco quickly recovered from his shock. 'Yes, father. May I inquire why?'

Lucius stopped at the top of the stairwell and Draco had the brief thought that he might be shoved down it for the question. But he had no use for his wand, again in his pocket, because his father didn't seem upset by it, even if he hadn't answered yet.

They exited the old clock and as soon as Lucius had closed the hidden door, he turned to Draco with a hint of amusement on his otherwise blank face.

'Because, Draco...you are growing older. It is my duty to help you grow. And if you do not tell you mother...' Lucius smirked, 'he is yours from now on to do with as you like.'

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The stairs took just as long to descend even without Lucius there; at the same time, they seemed less foreboding. Perhaps because the Dungeons were not such a mystery, or maybe it was because Draco had researched everything he could in his given time on demons.

_Most of that was pure rubbish_, he thought with a frown. _Towering creatures with green skin and horns and leering red eyes... They had the eyes right, at least; but what about those other stories?_' As he stepped in front of them, the doors opened just as they had before: fluid and creepy. Draco entered the Dungeons and made his way to the first room.

'You called, father?'

Lucius was standing next to the demon-boy, talking to him, but he turned when Draco spoke and smiled. Draco noted the object in his father's hands; his brows furrowed unnoticeably.

'Draco... I trust you've done your homework?'

He stared blankly for a moment before understanding. But his momentary loss t didn't show on his face. Luck for him. 'Yes, father.'

'And what do the authors say?'

'They say that demons are vile creatures, knowing only murder and sex...basically,' he added. Lucius nodded, as if saying _Go on_. 'Er...Most said demons were easily overcome, given enough power. Every book called them 'evil, spawn of Satan'.'

Lucius dragged the knife slowly across the boy's cheek - not enough to do lasting damage, but it caused a thin line of blood. He walked over to Draco, stood in front of him, and studied him for several minutes.

'Draco, the simplest item here, as you see, is a knife. This,' and he held out the blade, 'is a four and a half inch dagger, given to me by a special friend. I have demonstrated a basic method... I want you to use it, do what you wish to this..._vile creature._' Draco kept his face void of expression as his father added, 'But you mustn't kill him. He may have his uses yet.'

As Lucius walked to his spot near the doorway, Draco examined the dagger. Its blade was polished, and the handle was a chainmail-silver color, crafted to fit his father's hands. But it was a nice weapon nonetheless. He walked forward toward the demon - and stopped.

The demon was glaring just as before; but other than that, there was no sign of resistance. No baring those sharp canines, no growling like some feral animal, but an almost grudging resignation. Mentally shaking himself, Draco took another step, and a few more until he was right in front of him.

'May I have some ideas, father?'

'Use originality. Drag it along his throat if he speaks out of turn, cut into his hands, slit his tongue... Have fun, Draco.'

The blonde nodded. _Have fun, he says. Have fun torturing some kid that looks more depressed than I am. Have fun being sadistic and evil and murderous. Have...fun._

Draco started by cutting a deep, jagged line down the boy's exposed arm (the left), not because he thought it would hurt more, but because he couldn't keep his hand from trembling and if it wasn't deep he wouldn't be able to do it at all; and once reaching his wrist, moved to his shoulder to begin again.

All the while the demon kept a blank face, remained silent, while Lucius watched. Even when Draco's hand slipped and dug the dagger to the hilt into his ribcage, the demon refused to cry out. Lucius grew more pleased with his son and it reflected in his cold eyes; and all the while, Draco cursed the bastard for making him do such a thing, demon or no. Cursed the man, and cursed himself - for liking it.

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Author: jagter se maan

AIM: TS chatterfox

Status: Complete...?


End file.
